I suppose
I feel
that it is possible for soulmates
to feel each other's sadness
if so
then I want to cut the thread between us
so my soulmate won't feel mine
but I don't want to cut it either
because I would want to feel theirs
and lighten it with them

But I guess that
there is always certain sacrifice
we have to make
to find our other halves
to complete ourselves

"What do you think
scares you
the most
at night?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Not even my absence?"

"No. Rather, I think
the day
is scarier.
It proves that
your shadow
can still
reach me
even in the light.
But that only proves further
of your absence."

"When you're lonely,
what do you do?"

"I take pictures
of my favorite places."

"But why do you
keep taking
pictures of the same spots?"

"Because sometimes,
I wish
you'd appear
in one of them."

I think I'm always meant to be a writer; in the way where I always see things in third person.

I guess the past boys I used to like were, in a sense, too flashy for me. At first, I don't know what they lacked that I had to stop. I'm looking for something but they just didn't have it. Maybe I'll know when I meet the right person?

So now, I'd rather stick to just observing the boys around me--those of potential love interest or not, like I do with every other person. The most recent boy was such a main character in many people's stories; he has main character quality, albeit only from afar.

I conclude I'm looking for a person who's like me; not exactly a writer, but someone who balances. A reader, perhaps? Someone who sees things in a third person perspective as well; someone who can read people, understand the atmosphere and we can watch and scrutinize over anything and anyone.

I'm not saying that the boys in the past were incapable of being observant, but maybe they just don't care about these things, in the way that I do. And I don't really want to waste my time on a person who's like that.  When you observe a reader, they sort of observe you back.

So, back to my most recent--he's just a main character, lolling about in a plot, used to being watched, and not being proactive enough to be another writer or reader. It's ironic, because there are supposed to be two people in a love story. Two characters are needed but I don't want to be in that situation because I don't think I can be "main character" enough.

I'd rather find myself a reader to match me, a writer.

I've learned something about myself after liking a person. Now that I think of it, I guess I am looking for that thing that sets non-readers and readers apart. It's just really obvious, to me at least, when you know a person reads or not.

The superficial factor is, which I'm sure everyone sees, if a person "looks" like a reader. But you'll only truly know when you interact with them. The reader's thoughts are beyond their "looks" as a reader and goes farther than the minds of non-readers.

There's no rush in finding a relationship, I guess. I believe the readers will find the writers they will want to read, even if they don't know the writers' names at first. They'll come across our stories and they'll feel like being a part of it once they've read; not in the sense where they feel like the main character, but how they understand the writer's thoughts through the plots of the story.

You can see it in one's eyes and we writers have this in-depth instinct in sensing out different types of people: bad, good, weak, strong, non-readers, readers, etc. I suppose sometimes we don't want to admit these things because of easily misjudging people, but it's a fact that's silently agreed on by almost everyone.

I'm really dead set on on finding that quality which will make me love a person, a reader. And so far in the boys I've met, I never found it. But that's okay, because I always find little bits of myself, even if it's just a bit, every time I don't find what I'm looking for in them.

It turns out I'm looking for my other self in someone else. I'm looking for a reader who can read, know and understand me.

I wonder why
I lived from the moment I knew you.
When you become more of you,
I become more of me
Since we are a part of each other,
Even if we were born separated.
You may be there
And I may be here;
But if you weren't there
I wouldn't be able to define where I would be.
I will never stop longing for you;
How can I, with this string between us
Feeling so short
That you've pulled me closer
With just your little finger?
Yet it is never enough
As the void widens every time night falls alone;
Still, along with my heart.
We will touch,
No matter how far or long it takes:
When the moon completes;
When the clock hands meet;
When the rain freezes in heat.
Do you understand?
Maybe you don't,
But you do in a parallel world.
It is that I can only exist
When I know that you do.

I've been wishing for you,
wishing on you;
Is this the reason why
my dreams don't come true
because they don't need to?
When you're here
dancing as the pale moonlight
across my shadowed skin;
it's only in the dark
when I can let you in,
and we can see each other
best and in our brightest.
So paint yourself on the canvas of my thoughts;
allow me to be the blank pages you need.
I'll empty myself for you to fill me whole
with this dance of the thirteenth month—
a tribute birthed out of this tune.
When it ends I'll never move again
the same way I did before:
because now you are the echoing pulse of my bloodstream,
and I'm completely anew like the full moon.

Have you ever looked at someone and thought that they aren't completely good-looking, but they're so attractive like a raw form of art, and even emptiness?

People tell you to move on to the next (and real, pure) form of art but you see potential in this raw one, and you just want to watch that change; watch that space be filled up.

You think of that emptiness as something, because nothing is still something, no matter how paradoxical or illogical it seems.

You want to witness the metamorphosis and you believe that it will change before your eyes, so you watch close and just believe.

It's taking me awhile to move on to see more but this raw art piece really has taken the highlight exhibit in my art museum of a mind.

Maybe because I'm an artist, I'm positive about this and I just keep hoping I could witness the change, if not be the artist to do the change myself.

A certain raw art form in my life has been changing; I'm not able to observe closely but to hear about it is more than enough and relieves me.

To you who is reading this, we don't settle for the perfect in reality. In truth, there isn't a perfect in reality. We aren't all artists by profession or by the definition of 'artists', but once one learns to look at people this way, one can be an artist.

An artist believes, accepts, and appreciates; finding beauty in everything. Once you find beauty in even the most simple, mundane or raw form of art, you find the artist in you.